Out of Promises (10 page)

SIX YEARS AGO.  WONG

i

Six years ago, Freddie Mason was living in a rundown eyesore on the outskirts of Southbrook.  During the city’s overhaul in the late seventies, these places were built fast and cheap to improve the city’s image and show a thriving metropolis to anyone venturing inward.  But these days, the knowledgeable and the knowing instinctively avoided this area like the plague, a scar on the face of the city. The location and a fast exit road meant drugs effortlessly made it into the city limits, and law enforcement was easily swayed.  Freddie had seen this place change almost overnight from an affordable, comfortable dwelling to a drug infested shithole – more like the Southbrook of old, only with a different face.

He was desperate to move, sensing the troubles reoccurring and it frightened him.  All he had to do was glance out onto the city from his balcony and his senses were awakened, activating his instinctive protectiveness over the one person he loved most in this world, Lucy.

She was something of a neat freak, keeping their apartment on the top floor clean and tidy, even in a place like this.  She had pride, not giving up like most people here.

The sky was darkening and the air was cool, but not cold.

Leaning on the balcony and looking down at the abandoned cars and boarded up smashed windows covered in graffiti, Freddie listened to the sounds of people shouting and sirens bellowing out in the distance.  Shivers raced down his spine, emulating his need to get out.

Having seen enough, he walked inside to Lucy watching TV.

‘I wish you wouldn’t watch that crap,’ he said, dropping on the couch beside her.

She was watching a commercial on TV that he hated with a passion – two people in the desert, alone and walking side by side talking about life’s problems and how lost they were.  It was cheap and cheesy and it grinded on him.  One of the men said to the other, ‘Who do you think can help me?  I’m lost.’  To which the other replied, ‘I’ll tell you who.’  Then a deep vibrating voice came from nowhere echoing the words, ‘Christ is with you.’

He felt like throwing the remote at the TV.

‘What a load of shit,’ he said.  ‘I wish religions wouldn’t force their beliefs on the rest of us.  I mean, look, they aren’t even trying anymore.  Just look at how cheap that advert is.  It looks like they bought the camera from the seventies and paid some desperate losers to try and act.  Their invisible sky daddy won’t do shit for them.’

Lucy rolled her eyes and changed the channel.  ‘Why do you hate that kind of thing so much?’

‘Why don’t you?  Don’t be offended, but they should put this kind of thing on after midnight at the earliest, or at least have some more religious exclusive channels.  Channels that people have the choice to watch.’

‘Dammit, Freddie,’ she snapped.  ‘Saying don’t be offended won’t change anything.  I am offended and people who say don’t be offended need to realize that it makes no difference.  It doesn’t hurt to have someone to turn to in your hour of need, you know?’

‘All right, Lucy,’ he said, with a hint of sarcasm. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be so sarcastic.  But you should be sorry.  You should also come to church with me sometime, Father McGregor is very nice.  I think you’ll see the relevance.’

‘Ha!  You wouldn’t find me dead in a church.’

‘All right, you’ve made your point.  Can we watch something now?  I’m sick of your anti-religious attitude.’

‘Sure.’

She changed the channel, rolling her eyes again when she saw what movie was showing: Monty Python’s Life of Brian.

Freddie said with a smile, ‘Now this is the kind of religion I like.’

‘This was my father’s favourite movie,’ Lucy added.  ‘I can see him now, singing along to the song at the end.’

Shouting came from the apartment next door.  Freddie banged on the wall, receiving a muffled ‘Fuck off’ followed by the thud of something being hurled at them.

When the neighbours first moved in, Freddie and Lucy would put a glass to the wall and listen and laugh.  At first, the arguments were about stupid things like what pattern they wanted on the drapes, but over time the arguments gradually worsened and things became unbearable.

He took Lucy’s hand in his and said, ‘We won’t be here forever.’

She looked back at him with hope in her eyes and his heart melted.  It was at that moment he thought of telling her the truth about his job, but the charade would have to go on for a while longer yet.

‘I’m going on the balcony for a smoke,’ he said.  ‘I need some fresh air.’

‘Fresh air?  Is that what you call smoking?’

‘I could smoke in here if you prefer.’

The sky was turning dark blue and the air was fresh, just how he liked it.  Lighting up a cigarette, he turned around and watched Lucy through the window.

His cell phone started ringing, caller ID unknown.  He knew who it was so he rejected it and flicked his cigarette over the side.

Heading back inside, Lucy asked, ‘Did your phone just ring?’

‘Yeah.  Just a wrong number.’

‘I know you’re lying.’

He froze.  ‘What?’

‘Ha!  I’m just kidding with you.  You should learn to smile now and then, you know.’

‘Very funny.’

‘See what I mean,’ she said with a laugh, going to make a drink.

The phone rang again.

‘Who could that be now?’ she shouted from the kitchen.  ‘It’s your day off.  Tell them you’ll be at there tomorrow.’

‘All right, I’ll take it on the balcony.’

‘Good.  You stink of smoke.’

Back outside, he slid the door behind him and braced for an ear full.

‘Why did you cancel my call?’ said Jackson.  ‘You’re lucky I’m not my father.’

‘I pressed the wrong button.’

‘Bullshit. I’ll let this one slip but don’t let it happen again.  I’m calling with some good news, the boss feels it’s time you proved yourself with a chance to move up the ranks.’

Shit.

‘The money is good but the jobs will be harder.  Some you won’t like and some you’ll hate.  You’ll also see less of your Lucy as you do now.’  He paused.  ‘I’d advise you to take this or he’ll see it as a sign of disrespect.’

‘What do I have to do?’

‘First, you need to pick up your fucking phone when I call you.  Second, we need you to do a job on the son of a restaurant owner who won’t pay up, to show him not to fuck with us.  This is what happens when people don’t pay protection.  It will also show my father you can do this sort of thing.’

Freddie sighed.  ‘Who and where?’

‘The son’s name is Han Wong.  You’ll find him asleep when you get there.  He lives at Amber Heights next to The Truman Building in the centre of town.  You know it?’

‘Sure.’

‘Good.  Preston will meet you in your building’s parking lot with the details in two hours.  I want you to surprise the little fucker while he’s sleeping.  Don’t kill him, just send a message.’

Freddie said, ‘You better hope Preston can keep his cool.  Just last week he put someone in hospital for looking at him.  Between him and his brother, I’m not sure who is worse.’

‘Just do this and don’t mess it up, my father won’t be as easily forgiving as I will.’

He hung up.

Freddie stood in thought on the balcony for a few minutes before heading back inside.

Fucking Preston.

He sat down next to Lucy, who now had a drink in her hand.  Realizing he was on the verge of digging himself deeper into Matherson’s web than he had ever been, but wanting the best for Lucy, he saw this as the ideal opportunity to give her what she deserved: a peaceful life.

‘Who was that?’ she asked.

‘Just Eric from the garage.  Looks like I could be up for promotion.’

‘Really?  Freddie that’s great,’ she said, hugging him.  ‘It’s about time.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Do you think we can move away from this place?  It’s no way to bring up a child.’

Freddie paused for a second. ‘You want a kid?’

She released her grip.  ‘You don’t?  I don’t mean right now, but maybe in the future.’

‘Let’s just think about getting ourselves sorted before moving onto kids.’

‘OK.  It was just a thought.’

He let out a long winded breath.  These kinds of situations where she’d act like everything was fine left him feeling empty.  Of all the people he had to deal with in his life, she was one of the few he couldn’t handle.  Matherson had told him when he was younger that women always win and you cannot argue with them.  Just give them what they want and you’ll have a peaceful life.  He was starting to understand what he meant.

‘If I take this promotion it means more travelling.  I won’t be home as much, but at least I’ll be earning more money.’

Dropping her eyes, he could see her disappointment. ‘Great.’

‘Hey, hey, it’ll be OK,’ he said, taking hold of her hand.  ‘I’ll be home enough to see you.  I won’t be away all the time, just more than I am now.  Just imagine, in a year or so we could be in a nice house with a car, and a dog.’  He whispered in her ear, ‘Maybe a child too?’

She couldn’t help but smile.  ‘All right, Freddie.  Take the job.’

‘I will.  Eric wants me in work in a couple of hours or so, just for a quick review.’

She groaned, loud.  ‘Freddie, come on.  Can’t you do that another time?’

‘I can’t, he’s away on business for a few weeks.  Don’t worry I won’t be home too late, OK?’

‘Whatever you say.’

The strong smell of urine wafting through the filthy corridors would be strong enough to taste if Freddie didn’t have his hand over his mouth, though he still felt sick as he walked beneath flickering lights towards the stairwell, a journey he’d made countless times, usually needing a shower when returning home.

He’d kissed a disappointed Lucy goodnight and left the apartment feeling guilty for lying while being blinded by the long term benefits.

The stairwell was dull and steep making the job of walking tiptoed to avoid slipping on the wet steps the more difficult.  There was a broken elevator not too far away, but he wouldn’t trust it even if it worked.

Passing each floor on his way down, he listened to the argumentative echoes, peering through an open door here and there to see a sleeping, or dying, junkie on the floor.  There was no humility here and nobody cared.

What a shithole.

The basement door to the parking lot was missing.  He couldn’t understand the mentality of someone who would steal a door, but he’d once heard the phrase: One man’s junk is another man’s treasure.

A door, though?

He found Preston leaning against a new black sedan with cigarette in hand impatiently tapping his feet against the wheel.

Freddie walked over. ‘You know those things will kill you.’

‘So will a bullet,’ he said, flicking the cigarette at him.  ‘Let’s go get this fucker.’

ii

At 22:00, Preston pulled up outside Amber Heights.  With sixty floors, it was one of the tallest buildings around until the Truman Building was built beside with one hundred and twenty floors, dwarfing the neighbouring buildings.  It was visible from almost anywhere in the city.  During construction, protests and attempted sabotage resulted in violence.  Many people thought it an eyesore, while others thought it made the city more appealing and modern.  Just like when the Eiffel Tower was completed in Paris, it was unwanted, but over time people grew used to it and it soon became the town’s main icon and focal point for the city’s socialites.  One die hard protester never gave up, standing outside the building with a placard and megaphone, he himself now part of the scenery.

Over the road was Southbrook’s main high street, The Strip – a pedestrianized zone filled with benches and trees, feeding between shops and bars to a shopping mall and then on to more shops beyond.  At night, the place looked fantastic as neon signs blazed out, lighting up the area accompanied by music spilling onto the streets; the soundtrack to a night out for people of all ages.  They say the nightlife in Southbrook brings the city to life.

Freddie and Preston couldn’t help but stare, hypnotized at the clothes the ladies were poured into as they strutted along the sidewalk between clubs.

‘Let’s just get this over with,’ said Freddie.

Wong lived on the second floor above an alley between Amber Heights and another building to the rear.  The view was far from appealing overlooking the alley, but it was one of the few apartments available in the building when he bought it and he was lucky enough to get it cheap from a desperate seller.

Preston and Freddie walked up to the large, thick, tinted double front doors and, as expected, they were closed and locked.  The world inside was hidden from the world outside, as they found out when putting their face to the glass in a futile attempt to see inside.

‘Great,’ said Preston.  ‘Shall we smash our way in?’

Freddie moved to the keypad next to the door and pressed the button for a random apartment on the third floor.

An inaudible, muffled voice came through the intercom muted out by background music.

‘Hello?’ said Freddie.

The reply was too quiet.

‘Freddie, it’s not working,’ said Preston. ‘Try a different number.’

Freddie cancelled the call, ready to try another number when a car pulled up and a lady got out.  Preston looked her up and down with a wink.  She smiled and used her key fob against the scanner.

‘Come on,’ said Preston.  ‘Let’s get this prick and go home.  We could even find some ass in one of these clubs, don’t you think?’

‘You know only to send a message to his dad right?  Don’t go overboard.’